Tag Archives: injury

Prepping the voodoo doll

“Holy frick! FRICK! FRICK! FRICK! What the hell is that?”

Words that exited my mouth not even 10 minutes into yesterday’s physiotherapy appointment.

I had visions of spiked clubs, electric shock and iron maidens with Dear Physio at the end of them filling my head with every body twisting stab of pain going through my left butt cheek. Had I seen that bendable needle, the length of practically my arm, before it was inserted, Dear Physio likely would have had bruised shins… Or worse.

As many of you know, I’ve sung the praises of Dear Physio for years. He is a miracle worker slash ailment curer. But oh man, yesterday, he was so close to having a voodoo doll, complete with torture pins of its own, made in his honour!


For more than a month I’ve been dealing with a niggling pain in my butt; I thought it would subside or right itself, but it didn’t. And with training efforts ramping up again, I figured it was high time to call in the big guns: Dear Physio.

This guy is like a physiotherapy celebrity – everyone wants to see him. His current wait list extends well into October! I could go to other physios, I have gone to other physios, but none – N.O.N.E – have produced the results of Dear Physio.

He is the most rounded physiotherapist I have ever been to, continually elevating his education, mastering different forms of therapy, making sure he has the knowledge necessary to adequately treat the problem, not just Band-aid it. It’s why I want to see him, why the whole town wants to see him, why top-notch athletes want him, and why practices are continually seeking him out. He’s that good. Which is why I drive 45 minutes to see him, and why I whole heartedly trust him. Pain and all.

Dear Physio did the usual once over as soon as he saw me, asked a few questions, checked this and that, mumbled a few technical terms to himself, and then told me everything he was about to do.

And I tried to listen and understand all that he was telling me, which I’m sure was in the most simplest manner, I really, really did. But the thing is, I’ve been going to Dear Physio for years, and every time he has fixed me lickety split. I. TRUST. HIM. And so, half of what he says is kinda sorta like a fuzzy cloud of happiness shooting through me.

I heard something about my pelvis being elevated on one side, slight misalignment, my glute muscles firing, two trigger points, happy cloud, happy cloud, happy…WHAT THE???

I didn’t know much about acupuncture before the appointment, but I sure as hell knew all I needed leaving the appointment. Holy fricking hell – pain! pain! pain!

A needle, practically the size of an elephant’s trunk, jabbed and twisted down into my butt cheek. One. Two. Three times!!! I tried Lamaze breathing only to be reminded I never actually learned how. I tried channelling my inner yogi, but I always balked at the calming breathing portion of it. DAMMIT!!! I scrunched up my face, squeezed my eyes shut, held my breath, and held, and held, and held. Holy. Freaking. Pain.


Seriously, how the hell do people do this:




Or, are you freaking kidding me, what is wrong with you???


I spent the rest of the day either submerged in a hot bath or sitting on a block of ice. I downed a handful of Advil, and kept rubbing my buttocks in the hopes that the gentle caressing would magically eliminate the butt’s bruised feelings.

All for the betterment of my running legs! Seriously, the torture I go through for those things, sheesh 😉

Guess we can add acupuncture to my LONG list of running injury therapies!

Welcome to sucksville

You know what sucks…
Waking up at 5 am for a run, and not being able to run.

You know what sucks…
Squeezing into a sports bra, which, seriously, is no easy task, all for naught.

You know what sucks…
Fueling up for a run, but not actually running.

You know what sucks…
Spending a whole week icing, Advilling, stretching, foam rolling, being a good little injured runner, and yet, seeing hardly any positive steps towards healing.

You know what sucks…
Running 200 meters only to be struck down by the feeling of hammers ferociously pounding down on your pelvis.

You know what sucks…
The memories of not being able to walk a week prior instilling the fear of the running gods in you and stopping you dead in your tracks.

You know what sucks…
Sitting on a bench at 5:30 in the morning frantically sending worried emails to your coach and physio, looking so forlorn even the family of ducks sauntering across the boardwalk look at you with pity in their eyes.

You know what sucks…
Doing everything right and still being struck by injury.

You know what sucks…
Being that one person to prove all the cycling enthusiasts wrong and actually get injured on the bike, something they all told me – multiple times! – would not happen.

You know what sucks…
Being a runner with a cycling injury.

You know what sucks…

The Sami Salo of runners

Update on this week’s training: I haven’t done anything, nada, nothing, nil, zilch. In my defense, yesterday was technically a rest day, although I usually go to pilates, but because of Victoria Day, the pilates studio was closed, and today when I got to work, my first day back after two-weeks of holidays, I discovered I had a school board meeting tonight (which by the way I was so NOT happy about given that there was a Canucks playoff game on … this is the THIRD time the district has scheduled a meeting on significant playoff/olympic game nights! Forget that the meetings were scheduled a year in advance, they should have known, or at the very least, they should have rescheduled … so really, it’s not my fault if my stories end up with more Canuck’s highlights than school business; yes, I had my laptop with me … for note taking, really ;)).

I could have gone for a light run beforehand, and in the past I’ve had no qualms about going to these meetings all sweaty, but again the game started at 6, I needed to eat dinner beforehand, there was no time for a run. I could potentially go for a run tomorrow, and I’m still somewhat undecided on that one, if I do go, it will be super light, like five or six kilometres tops. And pilates on Thursday, I’m leaning more on the side of not going than going. Yes there are elements of stretching in pilates, but it’s more a weight-pulling, ab-crunching, physical workout. And knowing my history of coming down with injury like seconds before a race (re: falling down the stairs two weeks prior to marathon no. 1) I’d probably wind up pulling my groin or something.  I’m seriously like the Sami Salo of runners!

Click pic for larger image. (SOURCE)

So last week I received a question from long-time reader Joe following my half-marathon recap asking me what I plan to do nutrition wise for the marathon given that my body is majorly rebelling against all things gel-related. And honestly, I don’t have a clue. For my last marathon, I started out on gels and had silver-dollar-sized pancakes for backup later on in the race, which I had incorporated into my training for that marathon. But for this marathon’s training, I pretty much solely relied on the gels … to be honest, I was too lazy to make the pancakes. So I don’t know if my sensitive belly will be all that welcoming to pancakes on race day, but given my issues with gels, I really don’t have much to lose do I? So yeah, I’ll probably pack a couple of the pancakes, I’ll definitely be packing a slice of white bread for “just in case” the pukey belly rears its ugly head, and yes, I will be taking my chances with the gels, because really I don’t know what else I can do. I definitely won’t be taking GU as that’s the one that really gets my stomach going, so I’ve just got to decide between the eLoad and Hammer which is the lesser evil.

What “fuels” crazy or not have you used – other than gels – for races?


Stop and smell the … dandelions?

Forget roses, forget lilies, forget sunflowers and buttercups, I love dandelions. Always have. As a kid I’d run through fields of dandelions, taking in their bright yellow sunshine hue, and that pungent spring scent, and the second I saw the ones in their last days, I was the first to multiply them with a quick blow (and a wish) of their diminished petals. I am one of those people who, if I had a lawn, the bylaw officers would be pounding my door down, because there is no way I’d be mowing it – it would be a field of beautiful, contagious dandelions. Heck, mine and Mario’s first dance at our wedding was to Dandelion by Audioslave. Love them!

And recently, with the prevalence of spring upon us, I’ve been reminded of another greatness that is the dandelion. Its scent doesn’t make me want to hurl while running! It’s true, I have a rather sensitive nose with heightened activity. It’s not just cigarettes that have me plugging my nose for cleaner air, perfume, pine needles, barbecued burgers, roses, wood mills, exhaust are all on the no-scent zone. But not dandelions!

Mario and I went to the Chris Cornell all-acoustics concert on the weekend and it was amazing! His voice seriously melts me like chocolate in my mouth, no other way to describe it. For almost 20 years, I’ve been listening to his music, and this was the third concert of his I’ve attended (once for Soundgarden, once for Audioslave, and now Chris Cornell stripped down … le sigh!) and not once has it been disappointing. Although, I almost went all Chuck Norris on the group next to us. It wasn’t a large facility, it was just a really intimate atmosphere, and these people would not shut the heck up. Seriously, if I had a few five-pound bags of rice with me, they would have been stuffed down their throats! I’m not violent, really I’m not 😉

What music speaks to you?

So last night at Pilates, I noticed that my left leg looked a little shorter than the right, and I started freaking out. I have a long history of that leg getting jammed up, and with the Toronto half marathon a week and a half away, and me not seeing my physio for another week, I think I had every right to freak out. I did not like the prospect of running two hours with that sucker flared up the entire time. And on top of that my shoulder has been giving me major issues, no idea what I did to it. So, I did what any girl in her right mind would do. I posted a rant about how I’m falling apart on Facebook. Turns out, it was the right thing to do. My favourite speed skating Olympian suggested I look into Active Release Therapy. Being the desperate case that I was, I called around until I found a place that could fit me in this afternoon.

After getting real personal with my butt, the doc informed me my sacrum was misaligned and my hip rotators were über tight. Oh joy. He explained what he was going to do – pretty much knead my ass – and he told me, with the most serious look I’ve ever seen, that it would be uncomfortable and to brace myself. So he starts kneading away and moving my leg back and forth and I’m thinking this ain’t so bad, I’m tough, I run marathons, everyone else must just be a bunch of bab… holy crap! There! There! There! The pain! The pain! My only defense was to grip the table and hold my breath, but when I looked up there was a kid-made sign telling me to breathe! Not nice. And being the proper, pain-loving runner that I am, I’m going back for more torture on Friday

Have you ever had active release therapy? What did you think?